The body breaks
My hands begin to snap at the wrist
My bones splinter, inch by inch
My skin removes itself from its tissue
My eyes can no longer see anything but darkness

The mind manipulates
My brain pretends things are there that are not
My hallucinations have never been so real
My PTSD has never been so confining
My mental illness has never isolated me this much
My thoughts have never been so tricked by fear

The heart hurts
My feelings lead me to become emotional
My conscience leads me to become guilty
My expectations lead me to become broken
My love for another leads me to become sterile

I fade
I die out
I become dust over the ocean
Over the grass
Over my fleeting bones
But You never will.

Now as my loneliness rages
And fire burns away my shell
I will learn to rely on You
You alone
I will soldier on
With You as my commander.

This is mania.
This is so much buzzing in my brain I can't break free
This is writing poetry at 2 AM
(Bad poetry)
This is crying hysterically for no reason
This is hallucinating
(Or am I dreaming with my eyes open?)
This is...oh, look at the time...it's 4 AM already?
This is screaming and punching myself in the arm over trivial matters
This is talking to the ex boyfriend
This is sleeping with the ex boyfriend
This is sleeping with anyone who looks at you
This is not thinking about it twice
This is I'm not very productive
This is realizing I haven't slept an ounce
This is I'm even bad at being manic depressive.

This is depression.
This is pumping a gallon of caffeine into my bloodstream just to get out of bed
This is forcing a faux smile on my face day to day
This is wanting to reopen wounds on my wrists that have been healed for two years
This is wearing his agony and his guilt on my shoulders like a heavy book bag
This is everything hurts, can I go home and sleep yet?
(After all, I didn't sleep last night.)
This is no makeup, don't care
This is I'm ugly anyway
This is I don't care about school
This is I am too fearful about the future
This is I am too fearful about everything
This is the anxiety that encases my body
This is the dread that fills my lungs
This is every desire to relapse
This is no productivity
This is why am I so sad today?
(Yet I'm not sad enough for someone to notice.)
This is I'm even bad at being manic *depressive.

They say nothing is forever
This too shall pass
I will see you again some day
My love
My support
My wonderful role model
I will see you again.
So as the broken pieces of a picture frame fall around me
I do not cut myself with the broken glass as my feet.
As my stomach twists and turns with my mind
I do not reach down my throat and purge myself of hope and comfort
As the waves of depression crash around my mind
I do not submit myself to their will
I will keep my eyes focused on The Lord
For You are the only constant
In a world of impermanence.

My body is a perfect storm
With thunder thighs and hurricane hips
That move perfectly with the motion of your waist
Crashing waves above me
Your skin is my sea
Your face is my gloomy sky.

My nature is a perfect storm
As I cannot control the bits within me
Of shattered glass that long to be part of the typhoon
That embeds debris within my heart
Within my mind
Within my strength
Strength that can now equate to a tattered piece of rope
Withered away by pressure and force.

My conscience is a perfect storm
Part of me longs to be "good"
Conform to standards set for me by a holy book
Like virginity structured to fit the ideals of primogeniture
Ideals meant to itemize a woman for her only resource
So the other part, defined as Lucifer
Desires to seek your face, oh lover
Desires to know all of you
I never can tell if this is making love
Or meaningless, indiscriminate ***
Is *** ever truly meaningless?

My essence is a perfect storm.
For all I long to do is
Float into a fleeting thunder
Will you know if I am faking
These deep tornado breaths?
Will you know if I am pretending
These moaning winds in my mouth?
Then I can go out with these winds
For no one knows what to make of it
As the weather swallows me whole.

On the morning of March 1st, 2015
At 4:03 AM Eastern-Standard Time
I awoke with a violent tremor
As if someone took my shoulders
And shook me awake
As if someone was in the room with me
I heard a loud moan, but it wasn't my own.

That morning, Dad told me you were gone
Before the words left his chapped lips
I knew.

Childhood best friend overdoses.
Current best friend's dad dies by cancer's ***** hand.
Makes a new best friend
Gets a boyfriend
No, scratch that
Gets a guy who wants to be her boyfriend
Isn't that what you've always wanted?
Goes on her first date
Quits smoking
Starts smoking
In the pretentious town where popular kids are too good to smoke cigarettes.
Tells the wannabe boyfriend who is nine years older than her
Recovering drug addict
Unstable
She doesn't do clingy
When she begins to cling to a boy
Two years younger than she is.
Lets the first boy text her constantly
Doesn't stop
Wants to tell him to stop
Won't stop.
Hangs out with bums and cheats
Or, recovering.
Reconnects with a grade school friend
Watches her relapse two weeks after returning from rehab
It was only alcohol.
****** was her drug of choice
Alcohol reigned second in command.
***** her ex
As her grandpa lays dying
The only words she hears from him are
"I love you."
Funny how her ex says the same thing
They sling "I love you" across their lips
Swinging them left and right
Like popcorn across a Christmas tree
Empty sockets of air
Then ****
Gone.
Everything is
Gone.
Can't reason with herself
To stop.
Seems to be the consistent pattern
*She can't stop.

The art of fading isn't hard to master.
As I walked out to my 2005 Honda Accord
The seductive smell of smoke and stale coffee
Laid heavy upon my skin.
It was 30 degrees out
Or less
But after the bitter winter
It felt like spring.
Your voice rang in my head, sirens
Even though it was hushed
The tongue that used to roar like rivers
Was now silent like the pond.
"Hey, Dad, want to talk to Sarah?"
I heard my father's voice coax you like a child
Life is so funny that way
That at the beginning, you take care of your children
And at the end, they take care of you.
I hear your voice on the end of the line
It sounds like you are talking through a straw
Tears filled my eyes
Now my cheeks were the river your mouth used to be.
I squeaked out
"I love you, Pop Pop."
Among other things.
Maybe God was holding my hand that day
Because above the heavy breathing and scratches on the end of the line
The only words I heard clearly were
"I love you."
The art of fading isn't hard to master.
But the art of watching someone fade
Is more of a challenge.